Vasarian_Brandy

(Y) (Y) ~! This is the only reason I'm rooting for Pittsburgh... At least the Championship will be in the correct division.

I forgot... What kind of personality is he? And is Matt Kivell still roaming the back-alleys of the SWF somewhere?

So who's our normal interviewer-type nowadays?

Thanks to Bruce for giving me more of a chance than I probably should've had.

Great stuff. Really great stuff. Gratz to all the winners, and all those that wrote for the 'Fuck. I tried to write... I really did. Even tried 2 different styles of match. Just couldn't shake through a rut on either that formed shortly after I had the first 2 contestants enter the ring. Ah well... Just have to press on.

SWF Favorite Writer(s)? Dace. Toxx. GSMS, Edwin. I have quite a few. Favorite Match(es)? Mall Brawls were always good. Clusterfucks. Favorite Promo(s)? Frankly, my turn to the Clan, I thought, was a bad-ass set of promos. Favorite Character(s)? Hmm... Edwin, Silent... IL / Petey / Tim. Sarah. Favorite Spot(s)? It's been a bit since I've seen a spot that really just hit me. But the just-completed Blank / Akira fifth match is intense. Favorite Move Names? "The Walk Off", as brought to us by GSMS. Favorite Stipulation(s)? Mall Brawl again. Miami Mayhem. Least Favorite Stipulation(s)? Triple threats. Done tons of them. Favorite Match(es) and Promo(s) (Written by you)? Losing Mall Brawl match when I wrote as Omega Storm. Losing triple threat back in the IGNML days against Ash and Thoth (double titles at stake). Clan turn promos were great. Dream Matches? Never got a shot against Silent. GSMS in some sort of match with baseball stips. Dream Angles? Joining the Midnight Carnival would've been kick. Of course, going further with the Clan storyline would've been interesting too. Funny Moment(s)? How many times have I come back now? I find it mildly amusing. Fondest Memories? All of it. Wouldn't give it up. Any Regrets? Wish I wouldn't have had to have taken so many 'breaks'. I've became most friendly with...? IL. Wrestling (Keep in mind I haven't regularly watched in a couple years... :|) Favorite Federation? WWF/E, WCW, ECW Favorite Worker? Was Jericho, but not so much after he turned into an ass. Stone Cold. I was partial to the Hardy Boyz back in the feud days with the Dudleyz and Edge & Christian. And... Oh yeah... Lita. I still think she's hot. Least Favorite Worker? Trip-H. Favorite Match(es)? Uhm... Hardyz / Dudleys / E&C TLCs. Favorite Stipulation? Ladder matches are always fun. Or anything involving a cage and spot monkey wrestlers. Dream Matches? Stone Cold v. Trip-H in a no-holds-barred match. Loser explodes. If I worked for a company it'd be... WWE... Only one I know halfway well. My style of wrestling would be... Lightweight, basic, and defensive. Face or heel? Face. Dream Matches (that includes you)? Me and Lita in a mixed gender tag match versus... Whoever. Personal Name? Jeff Coleman Age? 28, but that'll change on the 3rd. Single? Woefully, for a couple few years now. Biggest Turn On? Humor, smarts, wits, and an easy-going personality. Plus the ever-present "initial attraction" factor. Biggest Turn Off? Peopl full of themselves, vain, or just plain mean. Religious? Wiccan. Favorite book(s)? Star Trek stuff, old Dragonlance, and military "science-faction". Favorite movie(s)? Star Trek, Star Wars, Monty Python, and anything Mel Brooks makes. Gold. Favorite actor/actress? Angelina Jolie beyond the obvious. Vin Diesel is interesting. Favorite bands? Cripes... I do all sorts of music, don't really have a clear fave. I like Seether though. Favorite song(s)? "Broken" (the duet version with Amy Lee... She's of teh hottnezz, too), "Piano Man", "American Soldier". I told you I had ecclectic tastes. Most Recent Accomplishment? Passing my tests for promotion. And that was a bit ago. Most Recent Failure? Another possible date backed out... My biggest flaw... is my shyness. I like my... computer. It rules. Future Goal(s)? Finish out school, see if I can cross-train and retire in 20. Start a family. Do you write outside the SWF (if so, what do you write)? I've tried writing sci-fi based in the Star Wars universe, but it didn't work too well... Used to write poetry many moons ago. Heroes? My mom. Jim Thome. I would love to meet... Jim Thome, or Angelina Jolie. Hardest moment of my life... was when my grandma died. Second would be Basic. Greatest moment of my life... was completing Basic. Heh. Would you want to be famous? Just want to be known as a good guy overall. Favorite swear word? Fucktard. Favorite food? Mmmmm... Pizza... What would you want God to say if you want to Heaven? -She- would say, "All your friends have been waiting for you. Welcome home." What would you want the Devil to say if you were in Hell? If I believed him, he'd probably say, "Here are the keys to the place."

I'll have an interview, or promo, or something. I'll probably be turning it in earlier than due, considering: 1) The 3rd's my birthday. I plan on being trashed, laid, and hopefully both. 2) I'm TDY to Washington state, with dial-up 'Net access... Which blows. Keep scheduling me, though.

The match... She does not go well. (Sigh) (The red one being me, the blue being the match)

Glad to have helped fill your mind with "shit that no one gives a flying fuck about".

Did you realize that, when you combine all the stats sheets for the CFers together, it's about 25,000 words... ...And -62- pages in WordPerfect??? I do now. And no, I didn't get any actual match done.

I have nothing yet, but I have an outline. I have a plan. And I might just start on it while I'm awake... Update to come later.

Did I at least manage to eliminate anyone?

(Rubs eyes blearily after another work night) Hm. I may have to whup out the first-person on this one... (Looks at the date) Jan 29... The day I split for Washington for training. And I'll have the better part of 4 days straight off beforehand... This bodes well.

Yeah... Sorry about that, all. (Shakes head) Last 5 days straight of rigging engines and throttles to fix a problem that probably wasn't even there to begin with made me a bit tired... Plus the fact that 12 hour "A Team" shifts don't bode well for a writing. (Grumbles) Though if I would've even conceived the thought of NO-ONE showing, I would've written a 50 word stomp. (Sigh) C'est la vie...

... Zuh?

Mall Brawl FTW.

Sure.

(Ahem) I can neither confirm nor deny these preposterous allegations. (Looks around warily) Seriously though, I think it was while I was one of my hiatuses... Hiatii... Whatever.

This... This could be very... VERY... Bad... I like the whole idea as a storyline, but... Hoo'boy...

Speaking of chat-type stuff... Do we still have an AIM thread around?

... (Turns to Terrence / Janus) Methinks we're screwed, ol' boy... Boys...

This was nowhere near the quality of match I used to put together, I know... But as I was writing, I felt completely rusty. Couldn't put together a good flow in the slightest. I just read Muzz's match, and damn.. Made mine look extremely, -extremely- ameteur. Anyway... Here it is. ---------- Television screens tuned into the SWF broadcast fade back in to a rotating view of the massive crowd at the Qwest Center, screaming and shouting... But the view darkens just a touch as “Get Over It” starts piping over the speakers. The crowd erupts harder suddenly as the camera focuses on a spot-lighted figure walking down the entranceway. “Welcome back to Lockdown, folks.” The voice of Longdogger Pete filters in over the crowd as the camera zooms in a bit more. We see a decently-dressed man... White shirt, black dress pants, slicked-back hair... A good-looking man, for all intents and purposes. YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! And the crowd is just eating it up! “If you’re just joining us, well... You haven’t missed too much.” “Yeah,” King interjects, “Just the end of Lockdown’s ‘Family Friendly’ bullshit.” Meanwhile, the man known simply as Wes Davenport slides into the ring. Funyon is already there, ready to do his thing. “And the return of the Crimson Skull,” Pete adds. “The who?” King adds in after a pause. With that, Funyon raises the mike to his lips. “Ladies and gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall. In the ring, hailing from Hollywood, California... Standing 6-foot-5, at 255 pounds... WEEEEESSSSS... DAAAAAVENPOOOOORT!!!” YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! The crowd belts into overdrive as Davenport raises an arm with a faint smile. “Wes Davenport hasn’t seen action since Ramadomination and his loss against Jay Hawke,” Pete intones. “There was rumors going around that he went to fill a key role in a new movie, but... We’re not really sure.” “The more important question,” King responds, “is ‘Would anyone care?’” “You’re in rare form, King.” “Bite me.” Slowly, the Center’s lights dim down, and the first strains of “Anxiety” filter over the speakers. The crowd doesn’t seem to respond much to this music... It’s new, unfamiliar... And the man coming out from the back is equally unfamiliar to the new folk in the crowd. The hard-cores and old-timers clap and shout (or boo and jeer) for the man in the black leather jacket... The black denim jeans, the sunglasses... And the kendo stick. White sparkler pyros set off with a decent SmarkTron display. The man coming up to the ring seems oblivious to it all as he drops the kendo stick off at the side of the ring, and slides in. He coolly eyes Davenport as Funyon brings the mike to his lips once more. “And the challenger, coming from Cleveland, Ohio... He stands 6-3, at 222 pounds... He is... CHRISSSSSTIANNNNN... FUUUUURYYYYY!!!” The crowd responds lightly as Fury takes off his jacket and sunglasses. “Well, this is the however-many-th time that Fury has returned,” Pete says with a smirk evident in his voice. “And each time, he looks like he’s just hanging on more and more... But why, I have no idea.” “But Pete, didn’t he technically come back on Ramad...” “That wasn’t him.” “It wasn’t?” “Nope. Impersonator. And why they picked someone like him, I have no clue.” “Oh.” The bell rings as Funyon slides out of the ring, and the two competitors are left to circle each other slowly. “Now didn’t you and Fury have a his...” “Yes.” Fury throws a quick jab, or rather, feints... Davenport turns it away before throwing his own fake-out. “Don’t want to talk abo...” “No.” Fury teases with another shot, but Davenport catches his arm, twisting it. Fury grimaces, but untwists and reverses, causing Davenport to grunt. Even as Davenport sags slightly though, he re-reverses, slinging Fury across the ring. Fury makes a bounce off the ropes, and Davenport catches him with an easy-looking hip toss, sending Fury to the mat and bringing a pop from the crowd... But only momentarily as Fury jumps back up to his feet. “Slow, boring, nearly non-existent offense so far,” notes King. “Well,” Pete responds as the two wrestlers lock up again, “Davenport hasn’t seen the ring in near a month... And for all we know, Fury hasn’t seen the ring at all in a year, so it’s not surprising.” Fury sends Davenport into the ropes, and tries for a hip toss on the rebound, but can’t bring Davenport off his feet. Wes, on the other hand, brings the attempt into an interesting reversal by hooking the leg, and dropping back with a *SMACK!* YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! “How could the crowd go that nuts about a Russian leg sweep?” “Davenport oozes charisma, King, Most movie star types do.” Davenport pulls Fury to his feet, locking him up, then hits the quick Euro Uppercut, snapping Fury’s head back. The crowd starts to pull behind the star as he once again sends Fury for the ropes. The rebound sees Fury ducking an attempted clothesline... But getting caught on the bounce by a drop toe hold by the now-prone Davenport. Fury is swiftly to his feet, but Davenport had beat him to the punch, winding up behind Fury and catching the standing returnee in a sleeper. This, of course... YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! ...Garners a pop from the crowd. “Fury with an excellent showing so far,” Pete chimes in, dripping with sarcasm. “I think he might have to retire if Davenport puts him out with a sleeper.” But just as King finishes, Fury lances a shot to Davenport’s shin... And another... And yet another... Before Davenport finally relents, and releases the hold. Fury stumbles just slightly as he moves away, but Davenport presses the advantage... He locks in a facelock, and... *WHAM!* YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! “Nice little snap suplex from Davenport there,” Pete states as Wes hooks the leg... ONE! T... And Fury pounds the shoulder up. “Near fall there, King.” “Yeah... I’m inclined to agree with what you’re probably thinking, Pete... Fury should’ve stayed retired... Or gone... Or dead...” King rants as Davenport hauls Fury up. “Fury was supposedly coming back with a bit more speed this time around,” Pete states. “I can see that here.” “Mmm-hmm.”Wes locks Fury up again, then nails him with a Euro Uppercut, seemingly stiffer than the first. Fury staggers just slightly, but it’s enough... Davenport steps back, and lances out a foot to nail Fury with a standing side kick... But Fury must’ve gotten the memo, because he leans back out of the way, and catches Davenport’s leg... And with a completely shocked and stunned look on Davenport’s face, and a quick spin, Fury takes Davenport down with a dragon screw. “Wait... I think I just saw some offense from Fury,” King gasps as Fury hauls Davenport up, and slings him into the ropes. Fury bends down as Davenport bounces, and grabs, and stands... And stands... And stands... Without success. Davenport hooks Fury’s head in his arm, hooks the trunks... Lifts... And... Falls... *WHAM!!!* YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! “Brain-Bustah!” Pete blurts. “It wasn’t all -that- great,” King mutters as Davenport hooks the leg. ONE! TWO...!! And Fury once again kicks out. “It really looks like Fury doesn’t know how to handle a bigger man anymore.” “It doesn’t even look like Fury knows how to wrestle anymore!” Davenport starts to actually -hear- the crowd, and he smiles as he hauls Fury to his feet. He slings Fury into the ropes, and proceeds to launch himself off the other set... He rebounds, and sets to throw down with the flying clothesline... But Fury’s... *WHAM!* BBBBBOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! ...Already had the idea for his own. “Wow... Fury -can- do something.” “Something.” Fury swiftly slides to the mat, and locks an inverted facelock in... Then hooks Davenport’s arm... “We’re seeing an odd number of sleepers here, aren’t we King?” “That’s what happen when shit meets shit in the ring, I guess...” Fury rears back harder, Davenport’s face reddening. The ref is close at hand, watching Davenport carefully, but there’s no signs that he wants to yield. As a matter of fact, Davenport is managing to drag himself towards the ropes quite nicely... And... The ref breaks the count as Davenport grabs the ropes. Fury releases the hold, and steps back. Davenport slowly gets to his feet.. And... ...Is greeted by a swift spinning heel kick, which puts him back against the ropes. “Fury with offense?” King questions as Fury launches Davenport off the ropes. Fury charges along, and catches Davenport’s head in a sleeper... ...But then swings him around and takes him down to the mat! BBBBBOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! “Wow... Fury actually has a move or two,” Pete states in surprise. “But did you notice that it had another sleeper?” “Yeap.” Fury, meanwhile, is hooking the leg for the cover... ONE! T... Davenport powers the shoulders up so hard that Fury is almost tossed off. “Knew that wasn’t going to work,” King says confidently. Fury clambers to his feet a tick faster than Davenport, and as such lances out with a quick nerve strike to the neck. Davenport staggers, but it seems to be enough as Fury presses... Grabbing his arm, and slinging him into the corner. Davenport looks winded, but nothing more as he starts to move... But Fury allows him no quarter. He launches into the corner, leveling shoulder after shoulder after shoulder into the movie star’s mid-section. The referee finally splits the two up, and Davenport comes out of the corner a little worse for wear. “Looks like Fury’s going rampant,” King intones. “Are you trying to make a joke?” Fury goes right back on the offensive as he clips Davenport to the mat with a Russian legsweep. He follows up by dropping down, locking up Davenport’s legs in his, bending back, and locking up Davenport’s head. There’s a decided groan from the crowd, and Davenport is wincing. “Well, this is something new,” Pete says simply. “Hm. Submission wrestling. How droll.” Fury keeps the pressure on, but Davenport will not be denied. He stretches his arms... But can’t quite reach the ropes. He tries to dig into the mat with his fingers... And actually starts to make some progress. As he does, the fans start to get progressively louder... And louder... Fury tries to put more pressure on, but really can’t due to his positioning and lack of additional leverage possibilities... And slowly closer Davenport works... Reaching... Out... And... The ref calls for a break in the hold as Davenport manages to inch the fingers around the ropes. Fury extracts himself, and Davenport slowly works to his feet... Only to be met with another spinning heel kick which sags him against the ropes. “Davenport is still rusty, King.” “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” Fury grabs Davenport’s arm, and climbs up the turnbuckles to the top... Then starts walking along the top rope! Davenport is still somewhat dazed, not realizing what’s going on... “What’s this all about?” “Don’t know, King... But it could be ugly.” “For which guy?” “Both.” Fury stands in the middle of the rope, letting go of Davenports arm... And jumps out... Landing on Davenport’s shoulders... But there’s no twist to the huracanrana as Davenport catches Fury’s legs... *WHAM!!!* YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! ...And plants him with an ultra-vicious-looking powerbomb! “Oooooh, that looks like it hurt!” “Hoping so, Pete... Hoping so...” Davenport hooks the leg, going for the win... ONE! TWO!! ... ... ... THR... Fury lifts out! “How’d he do that?” “Who knows... I’d be more asking ‘why’, Pete...” Davenport hauls Fury to his feet, slinging him into the ropes and taking him over on the rebound into a nice, stiff suplex... YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! ...Bridged into a pin.. ONE! TWO!! ... ... ... THR... Fury again lifts out. “Damnit, why doesn’t he give up?” “I guess he’s got a little bit of fight left in him, King.” Fury is hauled up again, and slung again... But slides underneath the attempted clothesline by Davenport. Davenport gives chase, but Fury drops and rolls, catching Davenport in a drop-toe-hold... Momentum carries Davenport forward, and he winds up getting caught up in the second rope. Fury seems to see a chance, runs for the other rope, rebounds... Goes wide... Jumping through the bottom ropes... Grabbing on... Swinging around... And... *CRACK!* A hugely solid kick to the underside of Davenport’s jaw! “Holy...!” “Wow,” Pete blurts, simply and effectively. Davenport rolls back, but it’s merely reflex from the shot as Fury comes through the ropes, slides over, and hooks the leg... ONE! TWO!! ... ... ... THREE!!! *Ding ding DING!* BBBBBOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! The ref raises Fury’s hand in victory as Funyon announces. “The winner of the match... . CHRISSSSSTIANNNNN... FUUUUURYYYYY!!!” BBBBBOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! “Well... Not sure what to say, King.” “We’ll see what happens when Fury meets up with someone that’s not so rusty. But in the meanwhile, we’ll be back.” The picture fades from Fury exiting the ring to black...

Not like it's gonna be my best effort.

Come into chat. Watch me idle and write my match. Or just idle, unless you can actually see my side of the screen.

That works. Plenty of time to finish this piece of work up.